Guardian's Mate

by Jennifer Ashley

  She gave him a smile of encouragement. Zander’s mouth turned down, but he bowed his head and began the chant again.

  Rae let herself relax under his voice, laying her hand on Zander’s shoulder before she realized she did it. The vibration of his chant came up through her palm, suffusing her with warmth.

  Carson continued to hold his wife’s hand, gazing down at her with love and anguish. Under the thrall of Zander’s voice, though, the tightness eased from his face.

  Vivian was far gone, Rae sensed. Somehow she knew when Zander touched her hurts, felt it in his body. Under her hand, Zander went rigid and he shivered.

  “Dark,” he whispered. “So dark. Alone.”

  Rae leaned closer, rubbing his back. “It’s all right, love. I’m here.”

  “Stay. Don’t leave me.”

  “No.” Rae rested her cheek between his strong shoulders. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

  Zander began whispering again, the words guttural and strange. Rae slid her arms around him, resting her hands on his chest, right over his heart.

  Rae felt the magic rushing out of Zander into Vivian’s body and realized after a moment that it was also rushing out of herself. She and Zander were both Goddess-touched, which meant the same magic flowed through each of them, though in different ways.

  Their magics twined through their pressed bodies, gathering into a white light to stream from Zander’s hand, much like what had streamed from Rae into the sword when Zander had healed her. On impulse, Rae reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword, feeling the silver hot against her palm.

  The light swelled, overwhelming the room’s fluorescents and the weak daylight coming through the rain-streaked window. Rae realized that the light was also going into Carson, flooding him until his skin glowed. Carson started, but he clenched his jaw and held Vivian’s hand tighter, as though determined to protect her through this weirdness.

  The light surged until Rae had to close her eyes. At the same time, Vivian jerked. The machines began to beep like crazy.

  Rae forced her eyes open, the light still filling the room. Carson sprang to his feet, though he didn’t let go of Vivian’s hand. “You’re hurting her. Stop!”

  Zander either didn’t hear him or he couldn’t obey. He closed both hands over Vivian’s arm, his chant growing louder, its rumble vibrating the room. At the same time the sword let out a rich note that swirled around Rae and drilled straight into her head, like a high-pitched bell. The sound rolled on and on, growing louder until Rae wanted to scream with it.

  Vivian gasped. Her eyes flew open, her pale face flushing as blood rushed into it. The monitors went ballistic and Carson’s hand clamped down on Vivian’s. Running feet sounded in the hall, the nurses charging in to see what was happening.

  “Carson?” Vivian looked at her husband in confusion. Her voice was weak, scratched, dry. “Who the hell are they?”

  She scowled and motioned with her eyes to Zander, who had sat up, his white braids hanging, green and blue beads glinting. Also to Rae, who stood behind him, dressed in a man’s shirt and sweatpants—all Miles could find for her on the boat—clutching an ancient sword.

  The nurses burst in and started shouting. Vivian clung to Carson’s hand and Eoin got to his feet.

  Rae turned from them all and drew the Sword of the Guardian.

  It came out shining, whole, and unblemished, weighing heavily in her hand. The runes glowed, the sword rang once, as though with laughter, and then it quieted.

  Zander’s hand closed over Rae’s on the hilt. “Well, look at that.” His voice was weak and he had to lean on Rae to remain upright.

  The others in the room were completely ignoring them in the chaos around Vivian’s bed. Vivian’s voice grew stronger as she demanded Carson to tell her if he was all right and what had happened.

  “I guess it took both of us together, Little Wolf,” Zander said. He nipped her ear . . . and then he passed out.

  * * *

  Tiger had managed to capture one of the ferals. Zander found this out after Eoin’s son Colin drove Zander, Rae, and Eoin back to the Montana Shiftertown from the airstrip where they’d landed from Seattle. Zander stumbled out of the pickup at Eoin’s house, exhausted and hoping he and Rae could return to the lake resort—alone.

  Sean Morrissey greeted them on the porch. “Hello to you,” he said, his Irish accent going broad. “Guess what we have in the backyard?”

  The feral Lupine trussed up in chains near the fire pit was coherent, made that way by fear. Zander guessed fear of Tiger, who stood stoically near him, his arms folded, watching the feral with his intensely focused golden eyes.

  Other Shifters from Eoin’s Shiftertown—the clan leaders, the trackers—had gathered to listen, looking grim.

  “Tell them what you told us,” Sean prompted the feral.

  “You’re all dead,” the feral said. Zander supposed that at one time he’d said this in a defiant tone but his defiance had now been replaced by pure terror. “If you join them, they might be merciful.”

  Rae stood next to Zander, the sword’s hilt poking him in the arm. Ever since the thing had been fixed, it had been humming faintly, just a little beyond hearing, bent on driving Zander crazy. Maybe they could break it again.

  He still didn’t know exactly how the sword had gone back together. His healing magic had flowed through himself, Rae, Carson, and Vivien, and the sword had joined in. Lots of Goddess magic, pain, suffering, hope, fear, and a shit-ton of love had been swirling around that room. Carson was human, but Shifters had human in them, left over from the faraway days when Fae had messed with genetics and magic to create a man-beast. Maybe the latent humanness in Zander and Rae had touched Carson and Vivien, lending them their Shifter strength.

  Or some shit like that. It was hard to tell with Goddess magic. He and Sean should discuss it when they discussed everything else they needed to talk about.

  “Join who?” Zander asked the feral sternly.

  Sean answered for him. “The Fae. Don’t make him say it.” He shook his head in disgust. “He starts this paean of praise that’s surely sickening, especially coming from the mouth of a Shifter.”

  “They have saved me,” the feral said.

  Zander, who’d spent most of his life full of messed-up magic, easily recognized it in someone else. “He’s been spelled. Brainwashed. Have you all been?” he asked the feral.

  The feral nodded. “They will return, with the Battle Beasts, and destroy all in their path, as they sweep to victory in their most glorious—”

  “All right, shut it,” Sean growled. He turned to Eoin. “Basically, the Fae have found a way to enslave un-Collared Shifters, either making them go feral or searching for ones who are already feral—I’m not clear on which. Dylan already knows all this. He asked me to bring this guy to you, Eoin, so you’d understand.”

  “Shit,” Zander said. “If they’re already working on manipulating Shifters through their Collars, and now they’ve found a way to ensorcell un-Collared Shifters, that’s going to mean . . .”

  “A second Shifter-Fae war,” Eoin speculated glumly. “Well, we knew it was only a matter of time.”

  Rae looked worried, her hand stealing to Zander’s. The Shifters had won their freedom from the Fae a thousand and more years ago after a long and terrible struggle.

  The tales of Shifter captivity had been passed down through the generations—horror stories of Shifters forced to fight other Shifters as well as Fae warriors, to be cut down by the hundreds. Female Shifters had been forced to create cubs to replace them; packs, prides, and clans had been separated; mates killed as soon as the mate bond formed; experiments performed to create different and stronger kinds of Shifters. What the humans had done to Shifters paled in comparison to what the Fae shits had done.

  “That can’t happen again,” Rae said softly.

  “We won’t let it,” Zander assured her. He turned back to the feral. “Tell your Fae masters t
hey can kiss our asses.”

  The feral stared at him in worry and then for one brief moment, sanity flared in his eyes. The guy was a Lupine, probably had a mate and cubs, a clan, a pack. He’d gotten pulled into all this by sadistic Fae bastards.

  “Kill me,” the feral begged. “Please.”

  Rae took a step forward. “We’ll help you,” she said. “We can get you free. My dad and Zander will . . .”

  “No,” the man almost sobbed. “Kill me. It will come back. I can never be—”

  Rae had taken another step toward him. The feral snarled, insanity taking him over again. He shifted to his half beast, and with a sudden burst of strength, broke through the chains. The chains flew apart, making the Shifters dance back, and the feral went for Rae.

  Zander was in front of Rae in a heartbeat. Before he could leap forward and wrestle the feral down, Tiger stepped behind the Lupine, grabbed the back of his neck, and broke it.

  The feral went limp, life instantly fading from his eyes. Tiger lowered him gently to the ground.

  For a moment the Shifters in the clearing gazed down at the dead feral, the Lupine’s face relaxing in sudden peace. Whatever spell had gripped him had gone.

  But they couldn’t leave him there for long. If the Fae had enslaved his body, they’d certainly rush to take his soul.

  The other Shifters realized this too. “Sean,” one of the clan leaders said. “Your sword. Quickly.”

  “No,” Zander said. “Rae.”

  The Shifter, a Feline, glared at Zander. He was one of the clan leaders who didn’t believe Rae was truly Guardian.

  Tiger gave the man his hard-eyed stare and the clan leader closed his mouth over whatever argument he’d been about to launch. “It should be Rae,” Tiger said, his voice calm but edged.

  Sean nodded, making no move to unsheathe his sword. “It’s Rae’s Shiftertown. She’s Guardian here.”

  Eoin stepped next to Rae, as though ready to defend her if any other Shifters tried to stop her.

  The clan leader looked at all those arrayed against him, sighed, and lifted his hands. “Very well. But hurry. If she can even do it.”

  A nervous swallow moved down Rae’s throat, but she drew her sword. The Sword of the Guardian rang, glistening in the sunlight, the runes seeming to move.

  Rae glanced at Zander but he took a step back. He couldn’t touch the sword or be seen helping Rae in any way, in case the others tried to claim it was Zander’s magic that made the sword work, not hers. This was Rae’s task, no one else’s.

  Tiger had arranged the dead Lupine full length on the ground, his arms at his sides. He’d done it gently, respectfully.

  Rae approached, the sword held in one shaking hand. She firmed her grip on the hilt then reached down with the other hand and touched the feral’s forehead.

  “The blessings of the Goddess be upon you,” Rae said in her musical, soothing voice, then she straightened up.

  Rae put both hands on the sword’s hilt, positioned the point over the man’s heart, hesitated, then moved it the slightest bit over. She didn’t look to Zander for reassurance or guidance. She didn’t need to anymore.

  Rae drew a sharp breath, wrapped both hands more securely around the sword, and drove the blade straight into the feral’s heart.

  Zander felt a tingling warmth, heard a whisper of thanks, and then the feral dissolved to dust. Rae bowed her head, the point of the sword resting on the earth.

  After a moment, she raised her head and let out a Lupine howl, a sound joined by Sean and Eoin and Rae’s brothers and others in the clearing—Shifters mourning the dead. Zander’s bear growled as well. Only Tiger remained silent, his golden eyes still.

  Once everything quieted, Zander saw that the clan leaders were staring at Rae, shock in their eyes. They truly believed her Choosing had been a mistake, or a trick. They’d expected her to fail, for Sean to have to come behind her and finish the job.

  Well, there could be no doubt now, Zander thought in both sorrow and satisfaction.

  Rae Lyall was the true Guardian of the Montana Shiftertown. Zander loved her, and the next ceremony in this Shiftertown would be a happy one.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The boat rocked under a moon that was two days past the full. Zander greeted it as he stepped out on the deck of his fishing boat, which floated in dark water south of the Alaskan coast. It was good to be back.

  Rae emerged behind him, her hair in a sloppy braid, her face flushed from lovemaking. She’d pulled on a tank top and sweatpants, the top hugging the swell of her breasts.

  She spread her hands on the rail, looked up at the moon and the stars, and sighed in happiness. “It’s beautiful here.”

  Even more so with Rae by his side. They’d come to the boat after the sun and moon ceremonies were done in Rae’s Shiftertown, Eoin giving them the final blessing under the light of the full moon. The man’s eyes had been wet but his voice strong as he declared them mated.

  Carson and Vivian had come to the full-moon mating, along with many of the Austin Shifters and all the Shifters in Rae’s town—they accepted her as Guardian now. Shifters in other towns might be slower to believe, but at least those in Rae’s Shiftertown now supported her.

  Carson and Viv had missed the ceremony under the sun, but Vivian had been resting and recovering, and apparently grilling Carson about everything that had happened since she’d been hurt.

  Vivian was full of fire, giving Carson shit every minute she could, even as she held on to him, obvious love in her gaze. Carson looked as though he’d been smacked between the eyes, but the despair had gone from him, his black anger eased. Carson had joined in the discussions before the ceremony about the feral Shifters and the feral Lupine’s revelation about the Fae, Carson ready to help kick some ass. Vivian was well, but Carson still itched to make the ferals who’d hurt her pay. Vivian was less adamant, but she understood that Carson needed to vent. They seemed to be good partners for each other.

  Zander looked at Rae’s moonlit face and knew he’d found as good a partner in her. He was also glad he’d insisted on this honeymoon trip. If he was going to give up his peripatetic life and settle down in a Shiftertown with its new Guardian, he reserved the right to escape with her sometimes. He’d bring her out to his boat or explore the wilds of the world with her, whenever they needed time alone. Rae seconded his request—the Shifters had given Daragh his space, and she could have hers.

  “I’ve been thinking about Vivian’s healing,” Rae said after a time.

  “Yeah?” Zander had given up figuring it out. The sword was whole, Viv was doing well, everyone was happy. End of story.

  “It’s like everything finally connected.” Rae studied the stars, her face serene. “You and I were alone, each looking for someone who understood us. We found each other and finally came together. The sword was broken, and it came together. Viv and Carson were forced apart, and they came together. We each needed the other half of our whole, and your call to the Goddess brought magic that found the emptiness in us and filled it. We were connected, and joined.”

  Rae finished with a satisfied nod, as though pleased she’d worked it all out.

  Zander shrugged. “Sounds as good an explanation as any.” He supposed the Goddess could have decided that Rae and Zander, stronger together than they were apart, had the power to heal anything—humans, the sword, themselves. Or it was just the Goddess enjoying herself. She’d been messing with Zander his whole life—why should she stop now?

  He took a step closer to Rae. “I like the idea of two halves making a whole. How about we go back below and put our halves together again?”

  Rae snorted a laugh. “You are so full of shit.” She started to turn to him, then said. “Oh, wait. We never opened Sean’s gift.”

  “Been busy.” Zander moved behind her, resting his hands on either side of hers on the rail. Rae cuddled into him, her backside caressing him enticingly through her thin sweats. “It’s been nice to give in to mati
ng frenzy.”

  “As long as we eat once in a while,” Rae said, her voice full of laughter. “To keep our strength up.”

  “Piotr stocked the boat well,” Zander reminded her. “We’ll be good for days.”

  Miles’s mating gift had been to pick them up on the Washington coast and deliver them to Zander’s fishing boat, which was nestled into a secluded cove, anchored and waiting for them. Piotr’s wedding gift—his and his wife, Irena’s—had been to give the boat a good cleaning and fill the refrigerator and cupboards with Irena’s good cooking. Piotr had also made sure they were well provided with beer and one special bottle of vodka. Rae had hung the wrought-iron frame Piotr had given her on the wall above the cabin’s table and declared that the boat was now perfect.

  Rae turned in Zander’s arms, rose on tiptoe, and gave him a kiss on the mouth. Zander’s frenzy, nowhere near sated, stirred. He began to close her into his embrace but Rae smiled and slipped out, and Zander’s arms came together on empty air.

  “I want to see what Sean gave us,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the cabin. “While we’re regaining our strength.”

  Zander felt plenty strong but he followed her to the cabin below, which Irena had thoroughly neatened. Zander knew Piotr hadn’t organized it—the man liked clutter.

  The Sword of the Guardian greeted them with a peal of welcome. The sound was muffled, however, because Zander had shut the sword into a cupboard, after throwing a blanket over it. The thing was obnoxious.

  What Sean had given them was a faux-leather tube about three feet long and four inches around with a lid firmly pushed onto both its top and bottom. He’d thrust the tube at Zander before they’d boarded the plane to take them back to the ocean, an amused look in his blue eyes. Zander had lugged the thing the hours it had taken them to reach the boat, then slung it into a corner to concentrate all his attention on Rae.

  Now Rae cleared the table of the remains of their dinner, eaten when they’d last come up for air. Zander opened the tube, curious now, and withdrew a long roll of paper. The paper had the same weight and feel as a map but when he and Rae spread it out across the table, they saw that it was covered with lines and writing.